


13 going on 30

by Lavendermeadow



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), Thor (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe, First Kiss, Fluff, M/M, Natasha Romanov Is a Good Bro, Romance, Romantic Comedy, Slow Build, Teen Romance, Time Travel
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-11
Updated: 2018-09-18
Packaged: 2019-07-11 01:43:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 10,332
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15962024
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lavendermeadow/pseuds/Lavendermeadow
Summary: What happens when a 13 year old Thor Odinson gets the worst kind of luck right on his birthday? Contrary to popular belief—a doll house and a wishing dust would actually work wonders.





	1. Chapter 1

The date is August 11th, 1987—Also known as Thor Odinson’s 13th birthday. All he ever wanted in life (as a 13 year old) is simple, which is a (pretty) cool drum set.

“What do you _mean_ you can’t get me one?” Thor, the birthday boy, donning his party hat over his short and choppy golden blonde locks, frowns at his parents’ rejection of his proposal as they sat on the porch overlooking the final preparations of his birthday party.

“We’re _very_ sorry, Thor—but our expenditure for this month isn’t really allowing us any room for a birthday gift of such… _scale_ …” Thor’s mother Frigga apologetically pats her son’s head, plastering a rueful smile on her face.

“That’s insane! I don’t even _know_ what expenditure means and I already hate it!” The birthday boy pouts, puffing his cheeks while crossing his arms.

Frigga ruefully smiled at his son’s antics, sighing after a long while. Her face lit up when she sees the first guest arriving. “Oh, dear—looks like your best friend is here”

“Bruce!” The birthday boy let go of his arms’ cross, and he got up from the chair as he sees his best friend approaching—with a _big_ box in tow. He stepped down the porch to greet him, grinning from ear to ear.

“Hey, Thor” Thor’s best friend Bruce Banner smiles at the birthday boy, wanting to shake his hand if not for the big box currently occupying both his hands. “I made you something”

“The party hasn’t started yet!” Thor tries to play it cool, but the thought of opening gifts always put a smile on his face. “But… since you’re the first guest, it makes you the guest of honor, and that means I can open your present first!”

“Yeah, _right_ ” Bruce shrugged his best friend’s warped logic off, but he couldn’t help smiling as well. “I don’t think it works _that_ way, Thor.”

“Whatever! Let’s just open it inside the house,” Thor grabs his best friend by the crook of his left arm, pulling him into the direction of his house. “Mom, it’s OK if I take Bruce inside and open his gift first, _right_?”

“Of course, sweetie. You go on ahead. But don’t disturb your brother, he’s in your father’s study right now” Frigga smiles, sipping her afternoon tea on the porch.

“Come on, Bruce! She said it’s fine!” Thor practically ushers his best friend inside with lightning speed, beaming and grinning from ear to ear.

-

“I’m gonna put it in your table over here, okay?” Bruce carefully sets down the big box he’s been carrying onto the large dining table, the size of the box is bigger than his entire torso. “Okay. You can open it _now_ ”

“What is it?” Thor inspects the box, the wrapping a simple yellow with purple dots decorated on it. He beams at the box, looking at Bruce expectantly for a little bit of hint.

“You’re gonna have to open and see for yourself” Bruce smiles sheepishly, trying his best not to spoil the content for his best friend’s sake.

“Okay—here I go!” Thor rips open the wrapping excitedly, although he tries his best to be careful with it. “Whoa—what’s _this_?”

Thor _gawks_ at the content—a 2-floored doll house made from _actual_ wood, carved to resemble a real working house and its appliances, _fully_ furnished. The dark plum and beige-colored house is a marvel to the eyes, and seeing this, Thor turns to his best friend teary-eyed.

“Wow—Bruce, you did _this_ for me?” Thor beams to his best friend, immediately wrapping him in a _huge_ bear hug without even waiting for a response.

“Oof—well, yeah,” Bruce returns the hug endearingly, patting Thor in the back. “I’ve been working on it for quite some time, but you haven’t seen the _best_ part yet”

“There’s _another_ best part!?”

“Yeah, here” Bruce takes out a plastic bag that’s filled to the brim from his pocket, its contents shimmering under the sunlight.

“What’s that?”

“It’s a…” Bruce pauses for a bit, as if embarrassed to say what comes next. “It’s a… _magic_ wishing dust. I know I’m a man of science—but a bunch of people who bought it believed in its wish-granting magic, so I thought… why not, you know? Maybe you can… pour it over at the doll house and make a wish” Bruce sheepishly rubs the back of his neck, handing the bag of wishing dust over to his best friend.

Thor accepts it, smiling at the sentiment. “Wow—thank you, Bruce. I’m going to take good care of this house, _and_ the magic wishing dust” he smiles at his best friend, and they share a warm smile for a lingering while, neither of them saying a word until an extravagantly forced, _fake_ cough breaks the silence.

“heh _hem,_ ” A young raven-haired boy pops his head out from the kitchen, interrupting the comfortable silence between the two best friends. “If I may interject, _brother_ , your other guests are arriving— _and_ they brought their noise pollution with them, too” the young boy thinly smiles as if sarcastic, carrying several notebooks in one hand and a bowl of cereal in the other. “If you need me, I’ll be in my room.”

“Thanks, Loki—but aren’t you going to celebrate with me?” Thor furrows his brows at his younger brother, somewhat disappointed even though he knew parties aren’t exactly Loki’s scene.

“No way,” Loki rolls his eyes, not even stopping on his tracks as he makes his way to his room upstairs. “You know I hate parties. Now excuse me” and with that, he left without a backwards glance.

Thor sighs, turning to Bruce, who’s already making an apologetic face. “It’s okay, Bruce—he’s only 9,” he squeezed his best friend’s shoulder reassuringly. “I can’t say I’m _not_ disappointed, but what can I do about it?”

“Yeah... but it still sucks,” Bruce sighs, but noticing the crowd forming outside the Odinson’s house snaps him out of the current funk almost immediately. “Hey—the doll house is kind of big, should I just keep it somewhere else?”

“Oh, right; I’ll just carry this to my room, you should go and say hi to Tony and the gang! I’ll be right back!” Thor carries the entire doll house up his arms—already making his way to his room upstairs, motioning for Bruce to mingle with the others.

-

Upstairs, Thor is still busy carrying the doll house as he carefully makes his way to his room, but stops short when he sees Loki’s door opened wide, and the younger sibling sprawled on bed with several books and a bunch of food wrapper lying close, ears jammed with headphones wired to a walkman.

“Loki…” Thor muttered under his breath, his mood turning south seeing his brother choosing studying over celebrating his birthday with him. _‘Whatever, I have somewhere else to be’_ , he thinks to himself, finally passing by his brother’s room and onto his own.

After setting down the doll house on his computer desk, Thor sets out to greet his party guests and to _hopefully_ lighten his overall mood. Stepping out of his room, he’s immediately greeted with a sharp _pang_ in his left feet. “Ow! What the hell— _Knives_?!” Thor gets down on the floor to check on the sole of his feet, and the cut from one of the knives scattered across the floor runs _deep._ “Loki!!”

“What?— _oh_ , you stumbled upon one of my knives, huh,” Loki popped his head out of his room as he heard his name being called, nonchalantly shrugging off his brother’s cry of pain.

“ _Stumbled_? It literally _stabbed_ my leg!” Thor wails, face contorted with the mix of rage and pain all in one, hands clutching the sole of his _bleeding_ feet.

“ _Please_ ,” Loki waved him off dismissively. “You’ll be _fine_. Just grab some first aid kit, the bathroom is right next to your room anyway” the younger sibling turned back into his room without a shred of guilt.

Not knowing which one is pain and which one is anger, Thor hobbles back into his room instead of heading for the bathroom. “ _Whatever_ ,” he grumbled under his breath, approaching his computer desk. “Stab me _any_ other day and I’ll be fine! But today—today is my fricking _birthday_! All I wanted was a super cool drum set, and that wasn’t even allowed! And Loki didn’t even _want_ to celebrate my birthday with me, and now he _stabbed_ me with one of his knives!?” Angrily, he pulled out the magic wishing dust out of his pocket and poured _a bunch_ of it down on the doll house Bruce gave to him.

“I don’t know—I just don’t want to _deal_ with this right now! _Please_ —just fast forward to when I can do things on my own and not be disappointed by _anyone_ anymore!” and with that, he blew the magic dust off the roof of the doll house and closed his eyes shut.


	2. Chapter 2

“Wake up, sleepyhead…” a feminine voice whispered in a husky, low voice.

“Hm?”

“Wake up, don’t you want to make us _both_ breakfast?” the whisper grows louder, still maintaining a touch of sultriness at the end.

“Wh—?”

Unwillingly, Thor forces his eyes to pry open. Once his vision clears, he’s greeted by an unfamiliar woman in an oversized pajama, lying right next to him in an unfamiliar bed he’s currently sleeping on. “Wh—who—”

“Oh dudes, last night was _awesome_ ” another voice popped out from the covers, this time revealing himself to be a shirtless man lying on his _other_ side of the bed, both lazily tracing numbers and figures on Thor’s arms.

“W—what…” Thor furrowed his brows in confusion, finding himself in bed with two people he’s never met, and the next thing he knows; he peeked under the covers, and he screamed.

“I’m— _I’m_!” Thor jumped out of the unfamiliar bed, away from the unfamiliar people _on_ the bed, frantically looking around for _any_ article of clothing he can find in this strangely art deco-looking bedroom he’s never been in. finding a pair of pants that seemed to be his, he threw it on and searched around for a mirror.

Tossing and turning around his bedroom to find no mirrors whatsoever, he threw the bedroom door open and plunged himself into a _way_ bigger of a confusion. It seems that he’s in a strange apartment building, its furnishings donning a rather simplistic and modern style to it, and so does its walls and floors. Confused, he went to the bathroom once he sees the door open. Seeing himself in the mirror, the first thing he does is stroke his newfound beard. _Hard._

“ _Who_ —is this _me_?” Thor muttered to himself, looking at this jarring reflection of him—a way, _way_ older; _handsome_ muscular man, with a choppy short hair and a beard framing his face.

“Sure is, sweetheart” the woman in pajama earlier approached him into the bathroom, her one hand lazily holding the doorframe. “I don’t know if you’re _still_ hungover or not, but we are _starving_ ”

“W—who _are_ you?” Thor turns to the woman, his face bewildered and just overall confused, knitting his brows in deep threads of worry.

“Oh, come _on—”_

“ _Alright_ , you two, I think it’s time for you to go home and leave my brother alone, now run along” A voice cuts the woman off, their silhouette from the floor seen busily ushering the man and woman out of Thor’s (apparent) apartment building, leaving a silence hanging afterwards.

“ _Well_?” the voice approached Thor, revealing a young, shoulder-length raven haired man in a sleek black suit—holding a cup of black coffee standing in front of him. “Aren’t you going to _thank_ me for getting rid of them?”

“Huh—wh” Thor faces the young man, still unsure of what is happening. But he knows for sure who this young man could possibly be. “Loki?”

“Well, isn’t that _nice_. At least you still remember your own brother. I thought after a night out like _that_ , you’d be hard pressed to even remember the first _initials_ of your last name” the young man enigmatically smiles, heading out of the bathroom, slowly sipping his coffee along the way to the living room.

“Loki? What—what _happened_?”

“For starters, you’ve never even _called_. And after years of not hearing any news from you, you decided to throw your 30 th birthday party on the bar _right_ _next_ to my apartment complex? _And_ don’t even get me started on the way you hailed a cab so terribly that _I_ had to give you—and your _two_ one night stands a ride home! Are you _kidding_ me, brother?”

“One ni— _what_?” Thor turns to his brother, now both situated at his modern living room that’s merged with the kitchen, his hand running through the back of his head in a flurry of confusion. “When—when did you even get so _big_?”

Loki rolls his eyes, sipping the remaining content of the black mug away. “Oh, brother. Looks like you’re still _way_ more hungover than I thought you were.”

“Loki, what—what year _is_ this?”

“Why, we are in the 21st century, of course,” Loki sarcastically oust, sneering at his brother’s out-of-touch funk that he thinks is a farce. “It’s 2004, brother. I didn’t even know alcohol could confuse you with how time works.”

“ _2004_ …?”

“Listen, I’d _love_ to stay and chat, but I have places to be. And so do you, judging from how _wild_ your phone has been ringing for the past two hours” Loki whirls his head around and makes a beeline for the exit, his fingers resting for a while on the doorknob, unmoving.

“Loki? What am I supposed to be doing?” Thor looks around his unfamiliar living space, flabbergasted and in a disarray, hoping his now-an-adult younger brother would be of any help.

Loki turned his head around to face his brother with a thin smile. “Pay your bills” turning the doorknob of the exit, he left without a backwards glance.

Left alone at this bizarre luxurious apartment, Thor sat down on his living room couch, bewildered. “That magic wishing dust… did it really…?”

_‘Bzzzzzzzzzzzt! Bzzzzzzzzzzzzzt!’_

“Huh?” Thor breaks out of his thoughts, his hands starting to roam around the couch, searching for whatever thing is making that vibrating noise. After rustling around the couch and turning over the small pillows, he finally found what seems to be a _much_ more modern version of a cellphone, now displaying an unknown number calling him. “Uh… hello?” he picks up the phone, pressing the green telephone button on the keypad.

“Thor, oh my god, you are _so_ late!” a female voice called out to him from the other end of the line.

“Late for what?” Thor furrows his brows in confusion, holding the phone to his ear with one hand as he got up from the couch to search for any signs of a wardrobe.

“ _Ha ha, very_ funny, you colossal oaf. For your job, _duh._ Come on now—you don’t want to make your sister wait any longer!” and with that, the line goes dead.

“…Wait—Hela’s back from boarding school?”

-

After _finally_ calming down as soon as he realized he’d just traveled 17 years into the future, Thor somehow managed to find the wardrobe, changed his clothes after looking through some of the fashion magazines stacked on his coffee table and copying their outfit style accordingly, he then got this strange new feature on his (futuristic) phone called the ‘GPS’ to work and got himself on the way to work.

 _‘Bzzzzzzzzzzzt! Bzzzzzzzzzzzt!’_ His phone rang yet again, an incoming call from the same number that called him earlier.

“Where _are_ you!? _Everyone’s_ freaking out without you here! Hela is basically conjuring up swords here to stab people with her words here!” The female voice on the other end loudly exclaims, panic practically pouring out of her voice.

“I’m still sitting in the… cab? Right now? Please wait, I’ll be there soon…?” Thor apologetically muttered into the phone, shifting in his seat.

“Okay, okay! But _please_ hurry!” She hung up the phone, and he puts his phone back into his shirt’s pocket.

-

“You’re late.” A tall, statuesque, _sharp_ suit-wearing woman with a pale complexion in contrast to her sleek, pitch black hair tied up in a chignon bun _whirls_ to Thor’s direction, her face unreadable—if not unhappy. “Just because this is a family business, it doesn’t mean you get to slack.”

“I was… just a bit _confused_ …” Thor pants, his breathing ragged after running out of the cab into the office lobby and making his way to the top floor using the lift, all done in a flurry—only to be scorned by his sister that looks _way_ older (and _way_ scarier) because of a mistake he has no idea of doing whatsoever. “I’m sorry, H—”

“ _What_ did you just say?” The statuesque woman _stops_ in her tracks on her way to scorn him, her face expression turning into confusion. The entire office—and _time,_ seemed to stop as all eyes turn to the siblings.

“Uh… I’m sorry…?” Thor repeats his apology again, unsure of what he’s doing.

“Wh—” the older sibling is taken aback, but shortly recomposes herself again while straightening the edges of her blazer. “Hmph. You have work on your desk to do. Pick up the pace, brother.” She tilted her head down to look him in the eyes, but turns away not a moment too soon, her heels clacking on the marble floor as she strides away into her office at the corner of the room.

“What just happened…?” Thor regained his breathing, feeling uneasiness blearing as all eyes are still on him.

“Okay, people! Give him some space! Back to work, nothing to see here!” The female voice from the phone call earlier rings in the air, now ever present as he felt her hands ushering him away by the shoulder, into a room that seems to be his part of the office.

“Okay, Thor, _what_ is going on with you?” The female voice belonging to a wavy red-haired woman with a fair complexion donning a sharp black suit, finally let go of Thor’s shoulders and turned around to close the office door behind her. “Okay, I _get_ that yesterday is your birthday, _alright?_ And I get that you want to spend some time to yourself and all that, but you’ve been so _off_ lately, I feel like I don’t know you anymore. And did you just _apologize_?”

“…Uh, have I not before?”

“Thor—oh my god, you’re _hilarious._ As if your ego would allow _that_ ” the woman sneers, trying to crack a joke—but stops short when she sees the ingenuity and worry in Thor’s face.

“…Wait… Natalia?” Thor muttered, realization finally dawning on him, that this woman is his (second) best friend from school, though the red hair (and 17 years of not seeing what the hell happened) threw him off.

“What— _Thor_! I _told_ you, I go by Natasha now! Sheesh… it’s like a wave of amnesia struck you with a lightning bolt or something…” Natasha sighs, one hand on her hip while the other resting on his office desk, although she might want to try rubbing her temples next because of the confusion the colossal oaf gave to her.

“I’m sorry, Natal—Natasha, I guess I’m just a little confused, I was 13 just the other day and now I woke up like this…” Thor slinks to his office chair behind the desk forlornly, not really making an effort to pretend he is what he looks.

“I get that, okay? But you’re not 13 anymore, you’re _30_. And as your friend, I suggest you focus on your work. _These_ papers aren’t going to sign themselves, Thor” Natasha slides the hefty stack of paperwork across the desk where it meets the edges of Thor’s fingernails, his brows then knitting in confusion as he picks out a piece of paper from the top of the stack. Skimming the writings on the paper and not paying much of an attention to it, he returns the paper back on top, his head turning to Natasha.

“What?” Natasha answers his expectant eye contact by arching one of her eyebrows, her one hand still on her hips.

“Where’s Bruce?” Thor looked at his second best friend, searching for signs of recognition on her face.

“Who?”

“ _Bruce!_ You know, the three of us last we—uh, I mean, back in high school? You, me, _Bruce?_ He’s a really good photographer and super smart, don’t you remember?” Thor got up from his office chair, walking around the desk to face Natasha—his hands gesturing Bruce’s photography skills and tracing the shape of Bruce’s hair with his fingers in the air.

Natasha is quiet for a while, scrutinizing him. “…Oh!” Her face lit up for a split second, only to dim again shortly after. “I remember Bruce, yeah… but not that much. I think we hardly see him anymore after the freshman year of high school—after you…” Natasha muttered, pausing her sentence when she sees Thor’s expectant face. “…nevermind. What _about_ him, anyway?” She turns around to get out of his office, but the colossal oaf immediately followed her to the doorframe.

“What? After I _what???”_ Thor follows closely behind Natasha, pressing for answers of what he basically had no idea of doing whatsoever.

“It’s not important. You have a job to do, Thor. Get back to it” Natasha gave Thor a meaningful look, then she turned around and quickened her pace, leaving Thor hanging at the doorframe, bewildered and clueless.

-

“Banner… it’s b-a-n-n-e-r, do you know where he lives?” Thor speaks into the office phone, his hands hot on the handle and the other hand absentmindedly signing the paperworks on the desk as he tries searching for his best friend’s whereabouts. “Wait, what do you mean wrong nu—hey, don’t hang up!”

They hung up.

Sighing, Thor pinches the bridge of his nose in frustration. “How did this even _happen_?” he grumbles on, his signing hand stopping for a quick break.

“Okay—maybe his parents still live in the same house…?” An idea pops into Thor’s head, and seeing that the rest of his coworkers have left for the day, he decided to grab his stuff off the desk, and went down the lobby to hail a cab.

-

Not long after, Thor stepped out of the cab with his heart hammering in his chest, louder and louder each step he takes on the cobblestone pavement in front of a familiar-looking two storey suburban house. _‘Deep breaths, you can do it. You just saw him yesterday! Well, technically not yesterday; more like 17 years ago—but it’s still yesterday! Just—just be cool, Odinson!’_

Finally arriving in front of the wooden door painted white that’s a little yellowing on the edges, he knocks on the door twice.

“I’m coming, hold on a second” A voice yelled out from inside the house, followed by footsteps pacing to the front door. The footsteps stopped, and the door slowly opens.

“…Bruce?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading another chapter of this series, I have no idea how long this will take but I promise you lots of fluff in the next chapters.


	3. Chapter 3

“… Bruce?” Thor felt his jaw dropped, now kind of realizing what those ‘then and now’ comparison pictures meant when he sees his best friend’s 30 year old self and how _handsome_ he looks.

“Sorry—who are you?” Bruce creases his eyebrows, his tousled dark brown hair reflecting the evening sunlight on its highlighted strands as they stand at the opposing sides of the door.

“…you don’t rem—” Thor frowns, stopping short realizing that he (apparently) hasn’t met Bruce for a long time, and he immediately regained his unwavering smile. “Sorry, I’m Thor. Thor Odinson? We were bes—sorry, _friends_ back in high school?”

“ _Seriously_? Thor? I haven’t seen you in _ages!_ How do you even know my address…?” Bruce knits his eyebrows in confusion and amusement, still hanging by the door. “…Oh, right—why don’t you uh, come on in?” Awkwardly, he stepped aside to let Thor into his house, blocking the wind from invading the space any further.

-

“So, uh, we haven’t really talked for almost a decade,” Bruce looked at Thor sitting across him on the living room couch, slightly alarmed by his _athletic_ physique, his hands fidgeting with the glass mug filled to the brim with a dark tea. “What made you decide to come here out of the blue like this?”

“…a decade?!” Thor’s eyes widen in shock, his face turning sour from the thought. He’s never even lived a _day_ where he doesn’t see Bruce, be it at school or just hanging out in their backyards after a long day—and now, being hit with a shocking revelation that basically hurls him with the fact that they don’t talk for TEN years?

“Bruce—did I do something wrong?”

“What—excuse me?” Bruce tilts his head to meet Thor’s eyes across the coffee table.

“Yester—I mean, _back then,_ we were inseparable! What happened?!” Thor pleadingly asks for an explanation, setting the glass down the table as he looked at his best friend’s _distant_ 30 year-old self.

“Uh, well,” Bruce furrowed his brows, unsure of whether or not Thor is pulling a mean prank on him. Seeing the ingenuity and concern splattered across his face, Bruce sighs. “I don’t know, Thor—we just, I guess we just grew apart. It happens.” He shrugs, his hands kneading the cushion of the couch in slight discomfort.

“Grew _apart?_ … so we just… don’t _talk…_ anymore? _Ever_?” Thor forlornly slinks back into the couch, rubbing his temples in frustration and somewhat sadness.

“I guess,” Bruce shrugs, not really knowing what to say. “But uh, thanks for visiting, I guess—”

“Do you still like photography?”

“…Yeah, actually; I’m surprised you remembered—I’m actually kind of a freelance photographer these days,” Bruce smiles, still a little bit confused and amused at the situation. “But… things are kind of hard these days, I’m still trying to find projects that are worthwhile and pays more”

“Oh, that’s awfu—”

“Who’s visiting, Bruce?” A brunette-haired woman comes into view, coming down the stairs where her eyes met Thor’s in confusion.

“Oh, Betty—this is Thor, my uh, _friend_ from, uh from high school,” Bruce awkwardly muttered, turning back to Thor and meeting his eyes, only to look away a moment after. “And Thor, this is Betty, my fiancée”

“Oh” Thor smiles, feeling uncomfortable with the sentiment, not knowing why such feelings even came to him. He shrugged it off, his smile never faltering. “Nice to meet you, Betty. And um, congratulations. When is the wedding?”

“Nice to meet you too, Thor,” Betty smiles, approaching the two of them in the living room as the frills of her sundress twirl in her movement. “And we kind of planned the wedding to be on the first of September, so it’s happening pretty soon” she smiles in excitement, her hands finding Bruce’s to interlace her fingers with his. Bruce smiles at her, but it doesn’t quite reach his eyes.

“September first? That’s in two weeks!” Thor smiles, not as blinding as usual. “You two must be excited, congratulations.”

“Thanks, Thor” Bruce thinly smiles, and it’s as if the conversation comes to a halt the moment Thor abruptly stands up from the couch.

“Well,” Thor makes a beeline for the door. “I should get going soon. It’s getting dark, and my hou— _apartment,_ is kind of far from here,” he continues, smiling at the engaged couple walking him out. “It’s good to see you, Bruce. And congratulations.”

With one last meaningful look, Thor walked out of the door to get himself a ride home. _‘Walking down the pavement has never felt so terrible,’_ he thinks to himself, casting his gaze back at the house to see Bruce’s silhouette from the window, only to be reminded that they’re not best friends anymore.

-

“ _Thor! Psssst! Thor!”_ A familiar voice whispered from his left.

“ _Thor! Goddammit Thor!”_

“Huh?”

“ _Thor! You colossal oaf! Snap out of it! Hela has been glaring daggers at you!”_ Natasha’s whispering becomes clearer as Thor lifts his head up from resting in his hands, not feeling whatever this morning briefing is all about, as the encounter with Bruce yesterday got him really mellow and forlorn.

“Brother,” Hela strides from the front of the meeting room to Thor’s side of the desk, her icy gaze now even icier than the one she gave him the day she left for boarding school. “Have you been paying attention _at all_?”

“Uh, no… sorry, I was just… lost in thoughts,” Thor ruefully smiles at his sister, towering over him with her unwavering icy gaze.

Hela tilts her head back up, clicking her heels against the marble floor as she returns to the front of the meeting room with her hand on the whiteboard, the LCD projector currently making a good use of it. “As I was _saying,_ ” she eyes her brother especially. “Our magazine’s star is falling. _Fast._ Unless _any_ of you got ideas for our next issue, you might as well sign your resignation letter right now.”

Natasha siddles closer to Thor, her hair today a tad messier than yesterday. “Hey, Thor, didn’t you say Bruce is a photographer?” she whispers to his ears, trying her best to not attract Hela’s attention from across the room.

“… _Oh!_ ” Thor’s lightbulb burns bright, a thousand watt smile beaming from him. “Hela—do we need a photographer?”

Hela turns to her brother, scrutinizing him. “Why _yes,_ in fact, we need _more_ than a photographer, brother. We need an entire _crew._ In case you forgot, I had to let go of the _entire_ creative team because they’ve been stealing our content for _months,_ selling them to our rival company,” she ends her sentence with a plight of disgust, the entire meeting room murmuring in discomfort and defeat.

“The contents they sold off were worth at _least_ three months’ of issues,” Hela sneered at the thought, her face contorting in anger of their plagiarism.

“In order to fix this, we’re going to need a photographer first, _obviously_ ” Hela turned to her brother at the other end of the room, pursing her lips. “Brother, since _you_ were the one who offered, I take it you _know_ a photographer?”

Thor smiles at his sister. “Yes, _yes_ I do”

-

“Hold on a second, I’m coming” Bruce opens the door of his house after hearing a knock, his face brightened seeing that it’s Thor, but meeting his eyes for too long caused him to immediately cast his gaze elsewhere. “What are you doing here? …again?”

“I have a job for you” Thor beams, grinning from ear to ear with a big box full of folders and stationeries in tow.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> woooooot have a great weekend everyone!


	4. Chapter 4

“Plagiarism, huh?” Bruce brews two cups of tea in the kitchen, not too far away from Thor’s earshot as he’s seated on the living room couch.

“Yeah, that’s what Hela told me, anyway” Thor absentmindedly answers, leaning towards the coffee table to overlook the contents of the big box he brought in earlier before Bruce let him in. “So? Will you do it?”

Bruce stops stirring the sugar down the tea for a moment, and sighs. “I don’t know, Thor—this is a _big_ opportunity, that’s for sure, but”

“You don’t want to work with me?”

“No, that’s not what I meant—Jeez, Thor, you’re so…” Bruce looks back at Thor across the kitchen, his eyes searching his face. “…Uh, nevermind. Yeah, I’ll do it”

The colossal oaf lights up. “Really?”

“Yeah, _really_. Is there any contract forms I need to sign or something?” Bruce finished brewing the piping hot tea, now bringing the tray all the way into the living room.

“Oh, there are a _lot,_ which is what half of the box is filled with,” Thor ransacked the box and fished out a huge stack of paper afterwards. “Natasha showed me which pages you have to sign on, I hope I don’t mess it up”

“Okay, but I gotta grab a pen first, I think they’re in my study,”

“Oh, I have a pen,” Thor picks out a pen from inside the box, handing it over to Bruce who’s taking his seat at the couch across him. Bruce slightly stands up to accept the pen, and their fingers brush for a lingering second.

“Uh, thanks,” Bruce quickly takes the pen away from Thor’s hand and sat back down on his part of the couch, pursing his lips. “So, uh, where do I sign?”

“Let me show you,” Thor smiles, siddling a little closer to Bruce’s part of the couch as he pin points the empty signature columns. Their shoulders slightly brush as Thor may have little to no sense of personal space, but he quickly realized that and just gives Bruce a small apologetic smile.

Thor casts his gaze down on the paperwork, flipping over the clipped pages for Bruce to sign. Bruce takes this moment to take a gander at Thor’s well defined side profile, and his gaze lingers at the sight. He smiles, but Thor didn’t see that.

-

“I’m Bruce Banner,” Bruce purses his lips as he shakes Hela’s hand in the lobby of the Odinson’s enterprise office, bright and early in the morning of the last August Monday. “We uh, we’ve met a long time ago, in case you didn—”

“I remember,” Hela shakes his hand back firmly, her statuesque posture towering over him. “My brother would _never_ stop talking about how intelligent and… _kind_ you are until my last day before boarding school starts. It’s hard to pretend I don’t know you when you’re all he ever talks about.”

“He uh—he did?” Bruce awkwardly smiles, not really knowing what to say at this sudden sentiment.

“Hello, Bruce” A voice cuts their conversation short, coming into view from the lobby’s entrance.

“Loki? What are you doing here?” Bruce turns to see Thor’s younger brother, dressed in an all-black suit, complete with an off black tie neatly applied.

“Well, I’m still an Odinson, am I not?” Loki enigmatically smiles, sauntering deeper into the lobby as he brings a group of people walking behind him. “And as much as I’d like to look the other way regarding your… _situation,_ my production company also has a, what say you, a _feud_ with your rival company. And what’s better than to kill two birds with one stone? I get to help you burn them to the ground, and I suppose—I’ll be helping the family business. These are my editors and copywriters.”

“Loki, I didn’t know you’re so kindhearted!” Thor bursts into the lobby entrance, weaving his way through Loki’s crew and targeted his brother for a bear hug. It’s too late for Loki to realize the imminent danger, as his brother now wraps him— _and_ Hela, into a _huge_ bear hug.

“Brother, what are you _doing_?” Hela sneers, trying to let go of the crook of her brother’s beefy arm, to no avail.

“I’m just hugging you two! This is so rare for all of us to work together!” Thor beams, gathering his two siblings even closer in the hug.

“Brother, we have work cut out for us—no time to waste,” Loki doesn’t even try to let go of the bear hug, knowing how futile the effort is.

Thor eventually let go, and the crowd dispersed not too long after. Bruce and Thor are the only ones remaining on the lobby.

“I didn’t know you’re so close with your siblings” Bruce smiles at Thor, his hands full of camera equipments and wires.

“Honestly? Neither do I.” Thor smiles back at Bruce, offering to help his best friend carrying the equipments. Bruce is at first unwilling, but he eventually caved in as he couldn’t exactly remember how he even got all the equipments out of his car in one piece as he walks to the lobby from the first place. Their fingers brushed again, but Bruce isn’t pulling his hands away in a hurry.

-

After an entire day of productivity flowing through the veins of the crew, a concept has finally been finished for the next month’s issue. The shooting will take place tomorrow, as the sun has set over the horizon in the lukewarm weather transitioning from summer to fall.

“Today was a lot of fun,” Thor beams to the crew, holding up his glass of apple cider for a toast, as they decided to celebrate at the bar right next to the workplace. The crew follows suit and cheers, where Hela, Natasha, Loki, Bruce and the editors chug their drinks down in unison.

“I have to admit,” Hela suddenly spoke. “Working with you all today is… not terrible” as she ends her sentence, the entire member of the table left their mouths gaping open in shock. “Don’t make me regret saying that, because you’ll never hear me say it a second time for today” and with that, she chugs her drink down in split seconds.

“Well, you’ve done the impossible,” Natasha scoots closer to Thor. “You’ve made Hela less of a tyrant at work” she continued, holding out her drink to clink it with Thor’s.

Thor clinks his drink in response, smiling. “This whole thing is pretty fun,” he muttered. “Adulthood isn’t as scary as how people make it out to be after all” he laughs, chugging his apple cider down. The crew at the table exchange confused glances, but doesn’t really pay too much attention to what it’s supposed to mean.

The night rages on as some of the crew members have let loose on the dance floor, including Hela that’s actually quite a good dancer, especially in her 5 inch heels. Some others are out like a light on their seats, leaving Thor and Bruce the only ones sober, and a tipsy Natasha busily trying to balance a tower of cards with strangers.

Thor scoots next to Bruce, but stops just as his shoulder is millimeters away from Bruce’s. “You’re not drinking?”

“Nah, I’m trying my best not to go home hungover,” Bruce gives a small smile, his features softly illuminated by the dim lighting of the bar. “What about you? Why don’t _you_ drink?”

“Ah, _well_ ,” Thor awkwardly laughs, unsure of how to explain that he’s literally a 13 year old that seems to have traveled through time and that alcohol—or even the _concept_ of drinking it, is still forbidden for him. “I’m just… not feeling it, I guess”

_Smooth._

“Oh, okay, then” Bruce nods, leaning back on the seat, deep in thoughts.

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing, just…”

“Hmm?”

“I wish… I wish we were still best friends,” Bruce ruefully smiles at Thor, but then he realized what he’d just said, and his eyes widen in an effort of trying to take it back. “Uh, sorry, nevermind that, I—”

“I’m sorry, Bruce” Thor sadly smiles at his best friend, not knowing what it is that wedged them apart, but he’s still just as apologetic. “For what it’s worth, I’m sorry”

“I—It’s okay, really,” Bruce shrugged it off with an absentminded smile. “That was—that was long ago, and for what it’s worth, I’m… I’m really thankful for this job”

“Of course, Bruce” Thor smiles. “You’re my best friend. I’ll do my best to help you” he squeezed Bruce’s shoulder reassuringly, sporting his 1000-megawatt smile.

Bruce smiles back, and it lingers for a moment until he awkwardly forces himself up, letting Thor’s hand off his shoulder.

“Well, I should probably get going—don’t wanna go home _too_ late since Betty doesn’t have the keys”

“Of course,” Thor looks at Bruce, his smile never faltering, but the meaning behind it differs. “See you tomorrow, Bruce”

“… you too, Thor"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you have/had a great weekend guys :)


	5. Chapter 5

The day of the shoot comes forth, and with the crew busily unpacking equipments left and right while untangling wires here and there in the northernmost part of the Central Park, it doesn’t leave much room for a personal space when everyone needs everyone’s cooperation to wrap this up quickly.

“Where do you want to put this?” Thor hoists up a tripod to Bruce, asking for the photographer’s direction.

“Oh, you can set it up near the bench, thanks,” Bruce helps the other members position the equipments, giving Thor half of an attention as he’s not exactly free to talk at the moment.

The photoshoot session starts to warm up once all the materials are set and the models have been prepared for, and this is where Bruce’s magic can start. Snapping pictures of the models and its backdrops left and right in a seamless harmony, Bruce is on a roll for today. Thor is mostly doing the heavy lifting (voluntarily), but he would steal quick glances of the photographer once in a while, smiling to himself at how passionate he is at his job.

“Alright guys, that’s a wrap” Hela said the magic words as she clasps her hands, and the entire crew applauses and cheers.

“The next part is yours,” she hands her raven haired brother a memory card full of photos from the camera, all his for editing.

“You’ll have the finished version the first thing tomorrow morning,” Loki nods to his sister, receiving the memory card and tucks it into his jacket pocket.

“Guys—you guys are the _best_ ” Thor swoops in out of nowhere, wrapping his arms around _both_ his siblings in a lightning speed motion, grinning from ear to ear.

“ _Enough_ , brother—I tire of you” Hela tries to wriggle free, but to no avail. “I have somewhere to be”

“Seconded,” Loki sighs, not really making any effort to break free.

-

The crew disperses, leaving Thor and Bruce sitting on the bench of the now-empty part of the Central Park. The equipments are all packed and ready to go, but neither of them moved from the bench as they struggle coming up with a conversation topic to kickstart things.

“…Are you hungry?” Bruce asks, finally finding a safe topic to talk about.

“Kinda, yeah”

“I know a great place for dinner, would you…” Bruce reconsiders his next words. “…like to join me?”

“Oh—sure, let me just—” Thor excitedly stands up from the bench in an effort to grab his things next to his feet, but toppled them over in the process. “Whoops”

Bruce laughs and helped the oaf gathering his things, and they leave for the café.

-

“No way! You did _not_ date Natasha!” Thor laughs, the edges of his eyes crinkling as he flashes a smile, the both of them seated close behind a table in a dimly lit, family-friendly café that isn’t too far from the park.

“I did, but it only lasted for about a week,” Bruce laughs along, sipping his Thai tea while occasionally sneaking quick glances of his seatmate.

“What—when did _that_ happen?” Thor asks, absentmindedly swirling the content of his glass.

“That was—that was in senior year,” Bruce is quiet for a moment, as if he’s remembering something. “We… we didn’t talk anymore that time because you moved away, right at the end of junior year” Bruce sadly smiles, casting his gaze at Thor, who’s furrowing his brows in confusion.

“I _moved_?” Thor leaned back on the chair, scrunching up his nose in confusion. “But I’ve lived here my whole life…?”

“Thor—”

“Please just tell me, what did I do wrong? Did I hurt you? Did I do something? _Anything_?” Thor sets his glass down on the table, turning to Bruce as he puts a hand on Bruce’s shoulder, a smidge of concern in his eyes.

Bruce looks at him for a moment, puzzled. “Are you playing with me?”

“Why would I do that?”

“Look, Thor, I don’t know if you got an amnesia or something,” Bruce grunted, mildly annoyed at the oaf. “But your 13th birthday is where _everything_ went wrong. You stormed into the living room with a bleeding feet, kicking guests out of your party and you screamed, yelled—you _snapped_ at everyone—”

“Did I hurt you?”

“… you told me… that you’ve never gotten anything you want in life… and that I’m a bad friend for never helping you out,” Bruce smiles, trying his best to keep his face unreadable. “And then we just… grew apart. We never really talked anymore”

Thor is taken aback, shook as to why or _how_ he would let himself say such things to his own best friend. He catches his breath the best he could, but it doesn’t quite work. “I’m… I was an _idiot_ ,” his voice came out ragged, almost desperate to get even a syllable coming out.

“No, Thor, it’s okay—it’s a long time ago, it’s okay now—”

“I was an idiot, Bruce. If I could… go back in time—I would just hug you… and tell you that… you’re the bestest friend I’ve _ever_ had,” Thor casts a sad smile at Bruce’s deep brown eyes, lingering there for a while. “And I would take all those things back—and I would never have said those horrible things. How _could_ I?”

“Thor, I…” Bruce is at a loss for words, ruefully smiling, consolidatingly patting Thor’s back, his hand resting there for a while, lingering. “It’s okay, Thor, really. I was really, _really_ surprised that you showed up in front of my door all these years, and… here we are now”

Thor leans in closer to Bruce, interlocking his eyes with Bruce’s. Their fingers brushed under the table and neither of them can help but give in to the magnetic pulse that’s pulling them closer—and _closer_ to each other, until Thor softly presses his lips on Bruce’s, slowly closing his eyes as the lingering feeling of the moment got even more passionate as Bruce presses his lips back, just as lingering and just as soft.

They pulled away after a while, neither of them saying a word, and neither of them moving away. Bruce ran his hand through his tousled hair, regret immediately sinking in.

“Thor—that was a mistake—” Bruce muttered to his seatmate, his expressions a mix of concern, regret, and anguish. “What—what are you _doing_? What are you trying to do?”

“I’m sorry, Bruce, I just—I don’t _know_ —”

“I’m _engaged,_ Thor! I just… oh god, I kissed back, I kissed you back—I can’t do this…” Bruce abruptly stands up from his chair, his face flushed with regret. He shuffles his pocket for some bills, and he avoids Thor’s eyes the entire time until he scattered a few crumpled bills on the table. “I’ll just… finish this job from home… Please, don’t… don’t contact me again,”

“…I’m getting married”

“Bruce, wait—” Thor tries to reach for Bruce’s hand, but he quickened his pace and left the café without another word.

“…What have I done?” Thor mutters to himself, regret and anger settling in. _‘What did you just do, Odinson? Why are you doing this? How do I get out of this nightmare? How can I turn back time? All I want to do is cry right now,’_

Not a moment after, he left the café and hailed a cab.

Showing the driver the address, he waited the entire ride with his feelings bottled up at the edge of his throat, trying his best to keep it all in.

-

“Thor?” The front door opens, and an older-looking woman opening the door is suddenly greeted by her son, hugging her the tightest he could.

“Mother, for whatever I’ve done, I’m so, _so_ sorry,” Thor relentlessly apologized, burying his face in her shoulder as tears uncontrollably start bursting out of his eyes.

“Oh, _sweetheart_ —okay, why don’t we just step inside first?” Frigga lets her son inside the Odinson’s residence, and after a 40-minute ride in the cab that feels like torture, Thor finally breaks out into tears, not letting go of his mother the moment she opened the door for him.

-

“Tell me what’s wrong, sweetie” Frigga smiles softly at her son, gently patting his shoulder as they sat on the porch of their backyard, overlooking the array of stars spreading above them in the night sky.

“I don’t know, mother” Thor sobs, his nose a flushed shade of red, the aftermath of his endless crying finally kicking in. “I just… I don’t know, I feel like I’ve been doing _everything_ wrong for the past 17 years and… I just want to turn back time and take it _all_ back,”

Frigga smiles, casting a solemn gaze at him. “I know the feeling, sweetie, but you can’t just turn back time. We just have to move on and… right the wrongs, I suppose…”

“Mother, have you ever done _anything_ that you regret you just want to do over and… make sure it’s done right this time?” Thor looks at his mother, his puffy eyes expectant.

“I don’t think so. Although I wouldn’t mind going back to the time I don’t have all these wrinkles,” Frigga laughs warmly, sipping her lukewarm Darjeeling tea from an old teacup set, the same one she sips from Thor’s 13th birthday.

Thor sadly smiles at his mother. “…Have I been a bad person, mother?”

“Of course not, sweetie” Frigga reached her hand out to pat his shoulder reassuringly. “You’re not perfect, I don’t think anyone is. But I don’t think you’re a bad child, sweetie… but I suppose it’s never too late to change the course of things.”

“Thank you, mother” Thor smiles, standing up from the chair to kiss his mother’s forehead. He hugged her close for a long while. “I have a lot to fix. Thank you, mother. And I’m sorry I’m a brat when I was 13” Thor whispered to her mother, his voice ragged and heavy as he buries his head deeper into his mother’s shoulder.

-

“Natasha, I’m sorry I’m a jerk”

“Uh… excuse me?” Natasha stopped clicking her ballpoint pen, looking up at Thor behind her corner office table.

“I didn’t even save your number on my phone. I’m sorry if I’ve been a terrible jerk to you. For what it’s worth, I hope you can forgive me” Thor squares his shoulder, looking at Natasha directly in the eyes without any doubts.

“…Don’t worry about it, Thor” Natasha smiles, lowering her eyelashes and flickers it back up as she looked at her friend. “It’s all good. You’ve been acting _real_ weird recently, but I didn’t know you’ll do an entire 180 and turn into this… _pirate angel…_ well, point is, we’re cool.”

“Super,” Thor smiles, and that’s one off his mental checklist.

-

“Hela, I’m sorry my ego gets in the way—and sometimes it would have a negative impact on the workplace—and if I’ve been a terrible brother, I apologize” Thor recites his apology to his sister, facing her in front of her desk.

Hela looked at him, scrutinizing him with her pale green eyes. “You’ve been _really_ weird lately, brother” she knits her eyes in slight confusion, but a small smile escapes her lips. “Get back to work.”

“Yes, ma’am” and that’s _another_ one off the checklist.

-

“Hey, Loki—”

“Is there a reason you’re calling me in the afternoon out of nowhere, brother?” Loki muttered from the other end of the line, his voice just as sarcastic as it is calculating.

“Listen, Loki—I want to apologize for all the jerk-y things I’ve done, and for whatever it’s worth, I’m sorry if I’ve been a terrible and a distant brother to you”

The line goes quiet for a moment. “…this isn’t some sort of a sick psychological prank call, is it?” his voice hesitant. “Well, whatever—I have work to do. Don’t be a stranger, I suppose” and Loki hung up.

-

A week after, Thor got his copy of the magazine issue that features Bruce’s photography from the editors. The glossy cover of the magazine beams under the sunlight, and Thor’s got a good feeling it will fly off the shelves in no time.

“You did it, brother” Hela tapped her brother’s shoulder, a proper congratulatory smile spreading across her face. “Our magazine is saved for now. We still have a lot of work to do, but you should take the rest of the day off. You earned it.”

“Thank you,” Thor smiles at her, the copy of the issue still in his grip. “I think I know what I should use this day for.”

-

Arriving at the Banner’s residence after almost an hour of a cab trip, Thor’s smile falters.

“Oh, right”

Looking at all the preparations for the wedding—the seat arrangements, the flower garlands and arches and the buffet table, _all_ beautifully set up, Thor tries his best to keep his expressions neutral.

“Thor? Can I help you?”

“Oh—Betty, right?” Thor reached out to shake her hand, to which she firmly responds to.

“Yeah, we’ve briefly met—what are you doing here?”

“I was just—this is a… copy of the magazine Bruce worked in, and I just want to give it to him before it hit the shelves. I hope it’s okay” Thor smiles, but it doesn’t quite meet his eyes.

“Oh, of course! He’s still in his room upstairs, I think—but _do_ try to make it quick, okay? The wedding is starting soon!” Betty rushes off to take care of the few final details of the wedding that needs her approval, leaving Thor at the porch.

-

“Bruce?” Thor slowly entered Bruce’s room in the second floor.

“Th—what are you doing here, Thor?” Bruce turned around from the mirror he was using to fix his tie, now facing Thor.

“I just… I just want to give you this. It’s the uh, the issue you photographed” Thor handed the issue over to Bruce, his fingers brushing the edges of Bruce’s fingernails as he accepts the item.

“Thanks, but you really— _really_ shouldn’t be here, in case you didn’t notice, today is my weddi—”

“I know, I’m sorry. I just… I’ve been a terrible friend to you. I’m sorry. And I… I think I’m in love with you”

Bruce looks at Thor, his brows creasing in anger. “Thor, I’m getting married in an hour! You—you can’t just…”

“I know,” Thor’s eyes starts to well up, tears on the verge of bursting out. “I’m sorry. I’ll never bother you ever again, I promise”

“…Just… hold on,” Bruce turned around without a word, ransacking his shelf. He turns back to face Thor with a big box in tow.

“…Is that…?”

“The doll house I gave you. You told me to take it back, so I kept it.”

Thor takes the box into his arms, delicately taking it from Bruce’s hands. “Thank you,” he choked on a sob. “I’ll treasure this always. I know I’m probably 17 years too late, but… I love you, Bruce”

“Thor…” Bruce sighs, casting his gaze on the floor.

“I’ve always loved you.” Bruce sadly smiles at Thor, and they gazed at each other meaningfully for one last time, until Bruce looked away to continue fixing his tie.

-

Sobbing, Thor cradles the doll house in his hands, tightly hugging it as he stepped down the flight of stairs, avoiding the wedding festivities the best he can.

Weaving his way out of the house through the kitchen door, he sat on the backyard porch trying to regain his breathing. He cried, wiping his tears with the back of his hand; only for more tears to stream down his face, and he eventually gave up trying.

“If I could just turn back time… one more time, _please_ ” Thor muttered to the dusty doll house he’s clinging onto so tightly.

“Please, just one more time. I take it back, please—one more chance… I’ll do it right this time” Thor wipes the tears off his eyes, blowing on the few remaining magic wishing dust off the roof of the doll house, and he hopefully closed his eyes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ...


	6. Chapter 6

“Thor? Are you okay in there? I heard screaming”

“Huh?”

Thor opens his eyes, hands still clutching the doll house tight. He sets it back on the table, and makes a run for the bathroom.

“…It works…” he sees himself in the mirror, the way he looks. He’s back in his 13-year old body again, right at the moment after his feet got stabbed by one of the knives on the floor.

“It works! It really works! I’m—I’m _me_ again! Well, the me _now_!” He hops on one leg, giddy and grateful, but the pain of his left feed doesn’t give him much time to rejoice. “Oh, right. The stab wound”

“Thor?” Bruce appeared in the doorframe, concern all over his face. “… What happened to your feet!?” Shocked, he immediately kneeled to Thor’s side, helping him grabbing the first aid kit.

Thor looks at the 13-year old Bruce, the Bruce he knows. “I’ll never take you for granted,” he smiles at Bruce, and Bruce stops short to look up.

“Uh, Thor, are you okay? You’re acting kind of funny,” Bruce meets his eyes, unsure. “Maybe I should call your mo— _oof!_ ” Bruce almost stood up to get help, but Thor hugged him _hard_ before he could get the chance.

“I’ll never _ever_ take you for granted, Bruce—forget that super cool drum set,” Thor wraps his arms around his best friend’s back even firmer, not intending on letting go anytime soon. “You’re _way_ more than all the drum sets in the world combined”

Surprised at the sentiment, Bruce laughs and pats Thor’s back in response to his hug. “Thor—you’re being kind of funny right now, you need to get back to the party after we patch this up,”

“I’ll get to that soon, but I have to do something first”

“What is it?”

Thor pulled away from the hug, only to cup Bruce’s face with his hands and pecks a quick kiss on his best friend’s lips.

“W—Thor! What…?” Bruce is taken aback, his face suddenly growing a few shades darker. “Wh—Why’d you do that!?” he grunted, surprised but somewhat happy.

“Come on, I have something to show you,” Thor smiles at his best friend, grabbing the crook of his arm as he stands up on one feet and hobbled the other. “But wait, before that—”

“Loki! I forgive you! I understand that parties aren’t your scene so I’m sorry for getting mad at you! I fully support your passion of collecting knives even though it’s scary!!” Thor screamed into his brother’s room, and Loki only gave him a thumbs up before putting his walkman back on and going back to studying.

They went downstairs, and Thor stops for a moment when he sees his mother taking care of the guests. “Mother, I’m sorry I’ve been selfish. I don’t care about that drum set anymore, I’m just happy you’re here with me” Thor hugs his mother endearingly, who’s very surprised at her son’s _sudden_ development.

“It’s okay, sweetie. Now go play with Bruce.”

“Come on, Bruce!” Thor grabs his best friend’s hand again, and Bruce smiles back at him, not knowing what this thing is entirely about. They went out the front door and the light washes them out in a warm, reassuring glow.

-

“Don’t worry about the finishing, my love—we’ll settle on a color when we see it” Thor grins at his husband, holding a paintbrush that he then sets  down on the newspaper-covered floor due to their redecorating plans.

“I know, I know—I just really don’t wanna stain it the wrong color, you know?” Bruce sighs, sporting a tired smile as he wipes his face with the back of his clean hand.

“It’s okay. Hey, we’ve been cooped up in here for quite long, what do you say? Shall we take a small break before painting the kitchen again?” Thor smiles, asking for his husband’s golden-wedding-ringed hand to interlace with his.

“I guess,” Bruce smiles, taking his husband’s calloused hand in his. “Oh, let me go get the pillows out first!” He makes a short detour to the living room, and his beloved follows suit.

“These would go really well with the swing, what do you think?” Bruce lifts up two small pillows, one purple and one yellow, to which Thor grins at fondly.

“They’re perfect.” Thor grins from ear to ear.

Each of them holding a pillow in their free hand, they head out of the wooden house they modeled after the doll house Bruce once crafted for Thor for his 13th birthday. Setting the pillows down on the wooden swing built in their backyard, they sat arm in arm, snuggled up in the autumn wind.

“Crazy, huh?” Bruce softly muttered, his tousled dark brown hair reflecting the sunlight on its highlighted parts. Sitting together at the swing made for two, Bruce absentmindedly rubs Thor’s knuckles with his fingers where it meets the band of his golden wedding ring.

“What is?” Thor smiles, taking his husband’s hand and kisses the knuckles softly. He wraps his other arm around his husband, both overlooking the serene neighborhood they had just moved into last week, right after the house is finished.

“This is all really happening, huh? 17 years went by so fast,” Bruce’s eyes meets Thor as he looks up to his beloved. “It’s crazy, but the _good_ kind of crazy.”

“I’m crazy for _you,_ Bruce,” Thor softly mutters, wrapping his husband even deeper in the embrace. “I’d be a fool not to be”

“Sheesh, you never stop being so cheesy,” Bruce sheepishly laughed, his head slowly resting on Thor’s chest.

“I don’t want anything left unsaid, my love” Thor softly kisses Bruce’s forehead, some of the strands of his dark brown hair entangles with his lips when he parted. “I love you.”

Bruce smiles, looking up at his husband’s calm and content expression—it’s as if he’s already gotten the entire world in his arms. And he already does.

“I love you, Thor.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ...and fin.
> 
> Thank you for reading and do listen to Madonna's 'crazy for you' for a little atmospheric setup. see you next time :0!!

**Author's Note:**

> Hello, Thank you for reading and I hope you enjoy it. This is a work that's (semi)loosely based of the movie called "13 going on 30", which is a timeless 2000s bop that features our own beloved Mark Ruffalo.
> 
> This entire work isn't beta read so please forgive the errors you may find along the way.


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